


Trying it Out

by 5a5b5p5



Series: Vintage au! [3]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AND squishy andrew, ANDREW in skirts :0, Body Worship, CW: scars, Fluff, M/M, Praise, When worlds collide, as per usual, cw: body image, it is just kissing but it feels like i should tag more lol, its a special occasion, neil just loves andrew a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5a5b5p5/pseuds/5a5b5p5
Summary: Andrew would say he isn’t curious about the skirts, but he has never been the type to lie.It had all started when Neil had said “I think you would look good in a skirt, too, Andrew,” and the words had opened a trap door directly under his feet.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: Vintage au! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921582
Comments: 21
Kudos: 188





	Trying it Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [minyardmonster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyardmonster/gifts).



> it’s [my dear friend’s](https://mobile.twitter.com/greywarrenn) birthday!!! this is based off a few conversations we had on twitter and they’re always making wonderful art (which you should check out) so!!!! happy birfday!!!

Andrew would say he isn’t curious about the skirts, but he has never been the type to lie. Not to himself, and not to others. _Especially_ not to Neil. 

It had all started when Neil had said, “I think you would look good in a skirt, too, Andrew,” and the words had opened a trap door directly under his feet.

Neil had been closing up his shop, and Andrew had been trailing behind him throughout the whole process, dropping kisses on the back of his neck and fingers fiddling idly with the fabric of the pleated white skirt Neil had been wearing.

Neil had said it, and Andrew had frozen in place from the implication alone, feeling confused and unsure, and suddenly _extremely_ interested, and while Andrew’s past still gives him pause when he thinks about things like this, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since, meaning the idea probably isn’t going away anytime soon. 

Neil had dropped the subject upon witnessing Andrew’s obvious and uncomfortable silence, and he hadn’t brought it up again since then, which Andrew is endlessly thankful for. This feels like something he needs to figure out himself.

Andrew loves Neil’s skirts, if only because he is hopelessly attracted to the way Neil looks in them, but as the days go by, Andrew finds himself paying more attention to the skirts themselves. He smooths his hands over the fabric of them when Neil sits snuggly in his lap. He inspects them closely when he’s folding laundry, making sure he doesn’t accidentally wrinkle them. He closely watches the way the thin material of them fan out when Neil spins or swoosh around his thighs when he moves too quickly. 

He knows, rationally, that Neil would like it if he ever wore one. He _had_ admitted it, after all. Something deep within him is suspicious of this, though. Despite his better judgment, he doesn’t see himself as the kind of person who could pull this kind of thing off—all rough edges and calloused hands—but then again, Neil doesn’t necessarily seem like that kind of person either. 

Neil wears the skirts because he likes them, and for no reason other than that. His scars and his past and his sharp tongue are constantly contradicting the soft fabrics and well-planned outfits, but he doesn’t give a shit. Neil will always wear whatever it is he wants to be wearing, and Andrew admires him for it, to some degree, despite the fact that he still can’t help but think there is something fundamentally different between the two of them that makes it less acceptable for Andrew to do the same. 

Still though, he can’t help his curiosity, and in the end that is what brings him to this point. He’s in Neil’s bedroom, and Neil is downstairs in the shop packing up some online orders. Andrew had woken up with his chest pressed against Neil’s back, his hands tucked firmly to Neil’s stomach so he could feel his breathing, and he’d been particularly bitter when Neil had finally peeled himself away to get ready for work, leaving Andrew snuggled up in his bed with a fond look. 

It had taken a while for Andrew to move, more than happy to lay in bed until Neil was done with work, but eventually, his stomach had forced him to get out of bed and make himself a bowl of the sugary cereal he keeps at Neil’s apartment. He eats it standing up at the kitchen counter before heading back into Neil’s room, fully intended on getting dressed and going downstairs to visit Neil. 

He swings himself into Neil’s closet, which is surprisingly small and cramped compared to the racks upon racks of vintage he keeps only a staircase away. Andrew searches for one of Neil’s hoodies, and he’s just reaching his hand out to grab one when his fingers brush against the fabric of a skirt he’s never seen before. 

He pulls it out to investigate, laying it out flat on the bed carefully and smoothing his hands over it. It’s plain black in color, and it’s made of a silky material that is obviously meant to fit tightly to the wearer’s body. He’s never seen Neil wear it, which is odd in and of itself, since Neil makes it his personal mission to get as much use out of his clothes as possible. Andrew wonders if it’s new or if Neil had just forgotten about it. 

Despite his previous reservations, Andrew unclips the skirt from its hanger. He shucks out of his sweatpants, kicks them unceremoniously into the depths of the overcrowded closet and closing the door behind them so he has a view of himself in the full-length mirror Neil has hung on the front of it. 

He strips off his shirt as well, inspecting his reflection in the mirror. Andrew enjoys lifting weights and building his upper body strength, but he’s never cared enough to change his diet or do cardio in order to get rid of the extra bit of chub he carries on his stomach and thighs. He doesn’t usually care about it, and on the days that it does bother him Neil is there to reassure him. 

His plain white boxer shorts feel entirely out of place as he slips the skirt on over them, and the skirt suddenly feels a lot more structured around his thighs than it had beneath his palms. He has to shimmy into it a little bit, and he’s out of breath by the time he has the waistband situated in the correct place. He takes a small break before attempting to zip it up, mentally cursing his boyfriend for being so damn lanky.

Finally, he begins trying the zipper, using two fingers of one hand to pinch either side of it together and the other hand to gradually pull the zip up. He sucks his stomach in slightly as he works, popping the button at the top triumphantly and letting out a relieved sigh, causing his stomach to puff out slightly over the top of the waistband. 

Turning back to face himself, he spots a pair of Neil’s well-loved thigh-highs hanging off the closet doorknob. He stares at them for a moment before figuring that if he’s come this far he might as well go all the way. He slips his feet into them and tugs them up to just above his knees in the way he’s seen Neil do so many times, snapping the elastic band at the top over his skin to keep them in place. 

Finally, Andrew looks himself in the mirror again, tilting his head to the side in consideration. The skirt is tight to his skin from the cinch of his waist to the tops of his thighs, and the places where his hips dip in and back out are clearly visible. The top of his stomach pokes out over the waistband, and the tightness of the skirt keeps the tops of his thighs pressed firmly together. The skirt is so short that he can see the first centimeter or so of his boxers poking out from under it, and the thigh-highs are more sheered out on his legs than they usually are on Neil’s, the elastic at the top tight enough that it makes the tops of Andrew’s thighs puff out around it as it’s stretched past its usual capacity. He can already imagine Neil’s confusion when he notices his thigh-highs have been stretched out. Wonders how Neil would react to seeing him like this. 

As if summoned by his thoughts, Andrew hears the tell-tale jingle of Neil’s keys in the door, the door opening and shutting shortly after. Andrew freezes, listening to Neil putter around in the living room. “Andrew?” Neil calls out into his apartment. “You still here?”

Andrew curses softly, trying to take a step forward so he can close the door to Neil’s bedroom and give himself some time to change, and promptly falling on his ass with a dull _thud_ as he tries to move too quickly—or at all—in the tight-fitting skirt. He’s just managed to get himself to his feet again when Neil rounds the corner from the hallway, his eyebrows drawn together in a look of concern that quickly fades into an expression of pure, unadulterated awe. “Andrew,” he sighs out.

Andrew stands still, frozen at the foot of Neil’s bed, his heart beating faster than he knows what to do with, feeling caught and nervous and excited all at once. “Neil,” he says back, as casually as he can manage.

Neil marches over to him with purpose, pausing only long enough for Andrew to breath out a quick “Yes.”

Neil grabs onto the back of Andrew’s head gently and pulls him into a fierce kiss, slipping his tongue into Andrew’s mouth almost immediately, kissing him senseless. Andrew leans into it, placing his hands at Neils’s waist and feeling the smooth material of Neil’s own skirt. Neil’s fingers clench in the hair at the back of Andrew’s head, and he pulls back enough to pant, “Where can I touch?”

Andrew gives himself a moment to catch his breath, taking a gauge of himself. “Not my ass,” he decides on, enjoying the way Neil’s eyes widen, “anywhere else.”

Neil lets out a shaky exhale, leaning back in and recapturing Andrew’s mouth for another kiss, this one deep and slow and all-consuming. Andrew feels himself get lost in it, his momentary panic from before completely forgotten. He pulls Neil flush against him using the hands he still has resting on the taller man’s waist, and Andrew sighs into Neil’s mouth when he feels palms dragging up and down his back, shivering when Neil’s short nails scratch lightly against his bare skin.

“Andrew,” Neil says again, pulling back an inch. “Can you lay down for me?”

Andrew’s stomach dips in anticipation, and he nods easily, allowing Neil to push him back until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, at which point he flops back onto it easily, shuffling until his head hits the pillows. Neil climbs over him almost immediately after Andrew gives him a nod, straddling his thighs and leaning back down to kiss him again. 

Neil’s mouth moves away from his mouth, peppering kisses over Andrew’s face. He kisses his cheeks and his forehead, leaving a trail of kisses over the bridge of his nose and down along the curves of his jaw and neck. Andrew frees Neil’s meticulously-tucked sweater from his skirt and rubs his palms over Neil’s bare back, feeling the skin there tighten as Neil shivers above him.

Neil keeps kissing along his neck for a few minutes, and Andrew fights the shudders that threaten to wrack his frame, letting out a quiet gasp when Neil bites gently on one of the thick tendons.

Eventually, Neil moves on, laving gentle kisses along Andrew’s shoulders and chest, looking up at him for permission before pressing his lips gently to the raised scars on Andrew’s forearms. Andrew squeezes his eyes shut tightly against the emotion that always wells up within him when Neil kisses him there, leaning his head back and running his fingers through Neil’s curls. 

Neil kisses his way back up Andrew’s arms one at a time, biting gently at the curve of his muscular biceps and dropping down to Andrew’s abdomen, leaving kiss after kiss along the way. Neil nibbles gently on his stomach where it’s poking out above the waistband of the skirt Andrew still wears, smooshing his face into Andrew’s stomach for a moment before he sits back up on Andrew’s thighs.

Neil slides back until he’s hovering above Andrew’s knees, his muscular thighs holding him still there without much issue, raking his eyes over Andrew. He trails his fingers gently along the thigh-highs before restarting again, dragging his palms up from Andrew’s knees all the way to the very tops of his thighs, rucking the tight skirt up along the way and making Andrew shiver. Neil drops back down, leaning his face back into Andrew’s space. “You look so good,” Neil says, his voice rough and his eyes still wide. “You look so, so good.”

He gives Andrew a quick kiss on the lips before scooting all the way back until he’s seated between Andrew’s legs. He gently picks up one of Andrew’s legs and brings his ankle up to his mouth, kissing it a few times and working his way up Andrew’s leg from there, rucking the skirt up until it’s just a ring of fabric around his hips and Neil is able to kiss all the way up to the seam of where Andrew’s hips meet his thighs. 

He kisses both of Andrew’s other ankles and the underside of his knees, keeping his leg lifted in the air enough to give him access, and his kisses the insides of his thighs, kneading his fingers gently into the muscles he finds there. 

He gives attention to every inch of Andrew, and Andrew feels himself beginning to fall apart. “Neil,” he gasps out when the backs of Neil’s knuckles scrape against the sensitive skin on his ribs, tugging a hand in Neil’s hair to bring him back up, feeling overwhelmed in the best possible way. 

Andrew pulls him back up the bed until he’s laying on his side facing Andrew, Neil’s fingertips brushing against the skin of his cheek. Andrew is hard in his boxers, but he feels no urgency to deal with that right now. He feels too inside out and exposed for that. Feels far-away and adrift and he needs Neil to drag him back to shore. “Neil,” he says again, more urgently.

“Andrew,” Neil sighs back, “I’ve got you, Drew.” He unzips and unbuttons Andrew’s forgotten skirt before pulling it down his legs, and Andrew sighs in relief when it’s gone, breathing a little easier. Neil strips himself of his own sweater and skirt, slipping back into bed with Andrew and pulling the fluffy white comforter onto them all the way up to their chins. 

“Thank you,” Neil says softly into the crook of Andrew’s neck. “For trusting me.”

Andrew hums, already feeling more than halfway back to sleep, wrapping his arms around Neil’s chest and bringing him close until his back is pressed completely against Andrew’s chest. “Thank you,” Andrew returns, “for letting me.”

**Author's Note:**

> :))) i just love squishy andrew
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/5a5b5p5)
> 
> and on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/andrewsbutterflyknife)


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